


juno steel and the coffee shop caper

by a_alene



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: God bless her, M/M, Rita is a Good Friend (Penumbra Podcast), an incredibly cheesy and self indulgent coffee shop au, as far as this thing has a 'plot' anyway, dont judge me, it's just fluff folks. that's all i've got, rita and juno being friends is an important plot point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_alene/pseuds/a_alene
Summary: He comes in every morning, Monday through Friday. Most days he orders a cup of black coffee, but some days he’ll order some ridiculous and entirely made up concoction. He gives a generous tip, and then he’s gone. To where he goes, Juno doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.But he can’t stop thinking about it.Where this man goes, where he comes from, what his name is. Everything about him is a mystery and, well-Juno has always had a taste for mysteries.***Juno Steel’s greatest mystery yet isn’t a case-it’s a man. And the most mysterious part of it all is how, exactly, Juno feels about him.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita & Juno Steel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	juno steel and the coffee shop caper

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is cheesy i’m just trying my best

Juno Steel has...problems. Enough problems to make a room full of therapists start sweating, enough problems to make the best financial advisors in the world run away screaming. Enough problems for a lifetime and then some. 

But putting all of the trauma and debt aside (which is what he usually does anyway), his biggest issue is twofold. 

One: customers. Period.

Two: One customer in particular, who gives a different name each time he walks into Juno’s coffee shop, and is currently trying to order something that definitely does not exist.

“That’s not a thing,” Juno explains, very patiently. 

The man-Juno can’t remember and doesn’t care what his alias is this time-raises a single, perfect eyebrow. “Oh, how very metaphysical of you. Is any object truly ‘a thing,’ or do we simply-”

“No,” Juno says, cutting him off. “Definitely not. All I’m trying to do is tell you that triple matcha caffinatos do not exist, and even if they did, we probably wouldn’t serve them.”

“Oh, dear,” the man says, putting his chin in his hand.

“Please get your elbow off my counter.”

The man sighs forlornly. “I suppose I’ll have to make a complaint to the manager.” He looks up at Juno, dark eyes sparkling. 

“I am the manager,” Juno says blandly. “You know I’m the manager. We have this conversation at least twice a week.” 

“I forget,” the man says. The same old smile stretches across his face, all sharp and charming, the one Juno has to live with every. Single. Morning.

He looks away, back down at the register. “Black coffee, then?”

“Black coffee sounds wonderful,” says the man, finally taking his goddamned elbow off of Juno’s counter. 

“Right,” Juno says, punching the order in. “And what’s your name this time?”

He actually has to think about it for a second, tilting his head back. Juno can see his Adam’s apple straining against his throat, but before he can dwell on it for too long, the man has snapped back to focus. “Ruler Kingsley, I believe it was.”

“Wow,” Juno says dryly. “Getting kind of heavy handed with the royal imagery, aren’t you?”

“It's all about...thematic resonance,” the man says, with an air of great threaticality.

Juno snorts. “Yeah, okay. That’ll be $3.50.” 

The man hands over his debit without a word, a secretive smile playing on the edges of his lips. He’s always smiling like that, like there’s some private joke he’s just waiting for Juno to get. Juno doesn’t know what exactly he’s supposed to do with a smile like that.

The order goes through, the man sits down at a table to wait, and Juno does his job. And he does what he usually does on mornings like these: he thinks about Ruler Kingsley. Or Rex Glass. Or Duke Rose. Or whatever his real name is. Juno’s not sure why he cares either way.

He comes in every morning, Monday through Friday. Most days he orders a cup of black coffee, but some days he’ll order some ridiculous and entirely made up concoction. He gives a generous tip, and then he’s gone. To where he goes, Juno doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.

But he can’t stop thinking about it.

Where this man goes, where he comes from, what his name is. Everything about him is a mystery and, well-

Juno has always had a taste for mysteries.

(Maybe it all has something to do with sharp smiles and long legs and lean necks, but Juno very carefully avoids thinking about that.)

The man takes his coffee when it’s ready with a wink. “Tell your manager he looked _lovely_ this morning,” he whispers, and then he’s gone. 

***

Rita is his best friend, technically, but that’s mainly because she’s his only friend. People tend to think that he’s “unlikable” and “stand-offish” and “absolutely terrifying.” Rita, for some reason, doesn’t seem to care that he's an asshole. He appreciates it.

What he does not appreciate is her motormouth, and her tendency to last on to any juicy bit of gossip. No matter how outlandish.

“Rita, for the last time,” he says. “ _There's nothing to tell_.”

Rita makes an annoyed noise. “But you always have something to say about him after he leaves! Oh, I knew I should have gone to work today.”

Juno raises an eyebrow. “Rita. You’re sick.”

She punctuates with his statement with a nasty sounding sneeze. There’s a moment of telling silence as she blows her nose. “Well,” she says snottily. “It’s never stopped _you_ before, has it?”

Juno deigns not to respond to that, and he takes a bite of his raspberry sorbet. Rita sighs, like he’s the one being frustrating. “What was his name this time, boss?”

Juno decides to indulge. Just because he’s too tired to fight it. “He said his name was ‘Ruler Kingsley.’”

“Really gettin’ heavy handed with the imagery there, ain’t he?”

“He tried to order some ridiculous fake coffee. Something with matcha. I don’t even think he likes matcha. I mean, who does?” Juno glances at Rita, who looks disproportionately pleased. “What? What’s with that face?”

“You know,” Rita says, in a way that tells him she’s not going to actually answer his question. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually _like_ someone.”

“What? No,” Juno says, much too quickly and much too hotly. “I-no. I don’t.”

“Sure thing, Mistah Steele,” she says. “Hey, this whole thing kind of reminds me of something.”

“He’s just a customer,” Juno continues, even though he knows she’s not listening. It’s more for his own sanity than anything. “An annoying customer for that matter-”

“Oh! Oh!” Rita says, sitting straight up. “I know what it's like.” 

“It’s not _like_ anything-”

“It’s like a coffee shop AU!” she says, eyes sparkling. “It’s fanfiction, right-”

“It’s _what?_ ”

“-You take this person and this person and maybe even this person and you stick ‘em in a coffee shop together and then they fall in love!” She sighs dreamily. “I love coffee shop AUs. I read this one once, you know-”

“Rita,” Juno snaps, cutting her off. “I-I don’t see how this is _relevant_.”

But maybe, he’s realizing, with this sinking feeling that doesn’t feel nearly as horrible as it should, he does. 

Rita tilts her head. “Well, boss, I don’t see how it _isn't_.”

“I-” he says, and then he can’t really bring himself to say anything else. Because she’s right. At least in part. Apparently, Juno Steel really is  
stupid, and he’s gone and fallen in love with a man he doesn’t even know. 

“He said I looked lovely this morning,” he says pathetically. 

Rita pats him sympathetically on the arm. “It’s okay, boss. I’ve got the movie and the ice cream.”

***

The next day starts out exactly the same as all the others, terrifying emotional revelations aside. 

Rita’s still sick, so Juno tells her to just take the rest of the week off. (She tries to hug him, then, and he pretends not to care.) He opens up the shop on his own, and he waits, same as he always does, for the man to show up, same as _he_ always does.

The man shows up a few minutes late. Not enough for Juno to be worried (not that he would be worried) but enough that it’s odd. Normally, he’s very punctual. Something about getting ahead of the lines. He looks nervous too, but like he’s trying not to show it. 

“Can I help you?” Juno asks, bordering on mildly concerned.

The man smiles, but it’s a bit tight around the edges. “Just a black coffee, thank you.”

“Okay,” Juno says carefully, punching it in. “And who is it for this time.” 

There’s a pause, and Juno wonders whether or not the man heard him. Then he inhales deeply, and says, “It’s for Peter Nureyev.” 

“Peter Nureyev…” Juno repeats softly. Something about it feels different. “What, is Nureyev Russian for king or something?”

“Well, no,” he says, and then doesn’t elaborate. He still looks on edge. 

“Wow,” Juno says. “What happened to thematic resonance-”

“It’s my real name,” the man blurts.

It shouldn’t feel like a revelation. It’s just another name. But it feels like they’ve just stepped over some grand precipice, and Juno doesn’t know what any of this _means_. 

“Nureyev,” he says again, just to get the feel of it on his tongue. It fits somehow, sharp and soft in all the right places. “It’s not a bad name, you know. What was with all the aliases?”

Nureyev half-laughs. “I suppose I was trying to...be memorable.

It’s all Juno can do not to laugh at that. Like this man could ever have any trouble being memorable. “Really?”

“Make an impression,” Nureyev continues. “You must have a least a dozen regulars. I had to stand out somehow, if I were to have any chance at-” He stops then, and his face does something oddly self-conscious. 

Juno narrows his eyes, suddenly suspicious. “Any chance at _what_?”

Nureyev straightens his back and clears his throat, like he’s about to make some grand announcement. Juno crosses over from mildly concerned to mostly confused. “Mister Juno Steel,” he begins loftily. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” He hesitates for a moment, and then adds “Please?”

Juno Steel is not left speechless very often. He always has something to say, and he always says it; consequences be damned. But in this case all he can do is stare. Nureyev runs a finger underneath his collar and glances over at the window, in a move too tense to be casual. Juno opens his mouth, shuts it, and then opens it again. 

“ _Wait_ ,” he says. “You mean to tell me-all the weird names, all the dumbass coffee orders...you were just trying to ask me out on a _date?_ ”

“You know how it is!” Nureyev says, falsely bright.

Juno does not, in fact, know how it is. He does not know how any of this is, period. What seemed like something ridiculously hopeless and one-sided suddenly seems a lot more real.

Fantasies are easy to deal with. Reality...reality's a lot harder. 

If he were smart, he’d say no. If he were at all capable of learning from the past, he’d say no. Hell, if anybody else on the planet had asked him, Juno Steel, out on a _date_ , he’d have said _hell no_.

But Peter Nureyev isn’t anybody else, is he? Peter Nureyev is something else entirely, a class all of his own. And Juno Steel is a fool, a fool who fell in love with a mystery. A mystery that he finally has a chance at knowing.

Juno realizes, suddenly, that it’s been a full minute since either of them has said anything. Nureyev’s smile has grown strained along the edges. 

“Oh,” Juno says. “Yeah.”

Nureyev blinks, clearly confused. “I-what?”

“To the date, I mean,” Juno manages. The realization is a slow, blinding dawn on Nureyev’s face. “I think-I would like that. So…” He trails off, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck. 

“Well,” Nureyev says, and Juno looks up. He’s beaming brighter than Juno has ever seen him. “That’s _lovely_ , then.”

And this time, Juno smiles back. “It really is, isn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they awkwardly finished the transaction because technically peter hasn’t paid for his coffee yet.
> 
> this is first fanfic in this fandom, but hopefully not the last. i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hoped that you liked it okay even if it did give you a cavity. you can come shout at me about these fools at my penumbra podcast sideblog, @peternubaeyev here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/peternubaeyev/blog/peternubaeyev
> 
> (sorry i don’t know how to link things)
> 
> feel free to leave a comment or a kudos if you want! i hope you all stay safe and have a lovely day!


End file.
